And thus Matthew said, Look you here, my friend By my troth! she replies, you grow younger, I I fairly have travell’d years thirty and one; (John, think:

[drink? And, though I still carry'd my sovereign's warrants, And pray, Sir, what wine does the gentleman I only have gone upon other folks' errands.

Why now let me die, Sir, or live upon trust, And now in this journey of life I would have If I know to which question to answer you first! A place where to bait, 'twixt the court and the grave; Why things, since I saw you, most strangely have Where joyful to live, not unwilling to die

vary'd, Gadzooks ! I have just such a place in my eye. The hostler is hang'd, and the widow is marry'd.

Are the Harrisons here, both the old and the Look again, says mild Morley! gadzooks! you are young?

(song ?

blind: And where stands fair Down, the delight of my The mill stands before, and the house lies behind.

POPE-A.D. 1688-1744.

Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away; What wonder then, a beast or subject slain
But fix'd his word, his saving power remains; Were equal crimes in a despotic reign?
Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns ! Both, doom'd alike, for sportive tyrants bled ;

But, that the subject starv'd, the beast was fed.

Proud Nimrod first the bloody chace began,
WINDSOR FOREST.

A mighty hunter, and his prey was man:
Thy forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats,

Our haughty Norman boasts that barbarous name, At once the monarch's and the Muse's seats,

And makes his trembling slaves the royal game. lovite my lays. Be present, Sylvan maids !

The fields are ravish'd from th' industrious swains, Uplock your springs, and open all your shades. From men their cities, and from gods their fanes : Granville commands; your aid, O Muses, bring! The levell’d towns with weeds lie cover'd o'er ; What Muse for Granville can refuse to sing ?

The hollow winds through naked temples roar ; The groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long, Round broken columns clasping ivy twin'd ; Live in description, and look green in song;

O'er heaps of ruin stalk'd the stately hind; These, were my breast inspir'd with equal flame, The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires, Like them in beauty, should be like in fame. And savage howlings fill the sacred quires. Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Aw'd by his nobles, by his cominons curst, Here earth and water seem to strive again;

Th’ Oppressor rul'd tyrannic where he durst ; Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd,

Stretch'd o'er the poor and church his iron rod, But, as the world, harmoniously confused ;

And serv'd alike his vassals and his God. Where order in variety we see,

Whom ev'n the Saxon spar'd, and bloody Dane, And where, though all things differ, all agree. The wanton victims of his sport remain. Here waving groves a chequer'd scene display,

But see, the man who spacious regions gave And part admit, and part exclude the day;

A waste for beasts, himself deny’d a grave! As some coy nymph her lover's warm address

Stretch'd on the lawn his second hope survey, Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress.

At once the chaser, and at once the prey : There, interspers’d in lawns and opening glades, Lo! Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart, Thin trees arise that shun each other's shades. Bleeds in the forest like a wounded hart. Here in full light the russet plains extend ;

Succeeding monarchs heard the subjects' cries, There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills ascend. Nor saw displeas'd the peaceful cottage rise. Er'n the wild heath displays her purple dyes, Then gathering flocks on unknown mountains fed, And ʼmidst the desert fruitful fields arise ;

O'er sandy wilds were yellow harvests spread; That, crown'd with tufted trees and springing corn,

The forests wonder'd at th' unusual grain, Like verdant isles the sable waste adorn.

And secret transport touch'd the conscious swain. Let India boast her plants, nor envy we

Fair Liberty, Britannia's goddess, rears The weeping amber, or the balmy tree,

Her cheerful head, and leads the golden years. While by our oaks the precious loads are borne, Ye vigorous swains! while youth ferments your And realms commanded which those trees adorn. And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood, [blood, Nor proud Olympus yields a nobler sight,

Now range the hills, the gameful woods beset, Though gods assembled grace his towering height, Wind the shrill horu, or spread the waving net. Than what more humble mountains offer here, When milder autumn summer's beat succeeds, Where, in their blessings, all those gods appear.

And in the new-shorn field the partridge feeds; See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd; Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds, Here blushing Flora paints th’ enamellid ground; Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd grounds; Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,

But when the tainted gales the game betray, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand; Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey: Rich industry sits smiling on the plains,

Secure the trust, th' unfaithful field beset, And peace and plenty tell, a Stuart reigns.

Till hovering o'er them sweeps the swelling net. Not thus the land appear'd in ages past,

Thus (if small things we may with great compare) A dreary desert, and a gloomy waste,

When Albion sends her eager sons to war, To savage beasts and savage laws a prey,

Some thoughtless town, with ease and plenty blest, And kings more furious and severe than they ; Near and more near, the closing lines invest, Who claim'd the skies, dispeopled air and floods, Sudden they seize th' amaz'd defenceless prize, The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods: And high in air Britannia's standard flies. Cities laid waste, they storm'd the dens and caves See! from the brake thewhirring pheasant springs, (For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves). And mounts exulting on triumphant wings : What could be free, when lawless beasts obey'd, Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, And ev'n the elements a tyrant sway'd ?

Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. In vain kind seasons swell'd the teeming grain, Ah! what avail his glossy varying dyes, Soft showers distill'd, and suns grew warm in vain; His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes, The swain with tears his frustrate labour yields, The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, And famish'd dies amidst his ripen'd fields. His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold? Nor yet when moist Arcturus clouds the sky, And with her dart the flying deer she wounds. The woods and fields their pleasing toils deny. It chanc'd, as eager of the chace, the maid To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair, Beyond the forest's verdant limits stray'd, And trace the mazes of the circling bare.

Pan saw and lov'd, and burning with desire (Beasts, urg'd by us, their fellow beasts pursue, Pursu'd her flight; her flight increas'd his fire. And learn of man each other to undo).

Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, With slaughtering guns th' unweary'd fowler roves, When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky; When frosts have whiten'd all the naked groves ; Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, (dores; Where doves in flocks the leafless trees o'ershade, When through the clouds he drives the trembling And lonely woodcocks haunt the watery glade.

As from the god she flew with furious pace, He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye;

Or as the god, more furious, urg'd the chace. Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears; Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath,

Now close behind, his sounding steps she hears; The clamorous lapwings feel the leaden death; And now his shadow reach'd her as she run, Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare,

His shadow lengthen’d by the setting sun; They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

And now his shorter breath, with sultry air, In genial spring, beneath the quivering shade, Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair. Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead, In vain on father Thames she calls for aid, The patient fisher takes his silent stand,

Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.

(vain : Intent, his angle trembling in his hand :

Faint, breathless, thus she pray'd, nor pray'd in With looks unmov'd, he hopes the scaly breed, “ Ah, Cynthia! ah - though banish'd from thy And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed.

train, Our plenteous streams a various race supply; Let me, O let me, to the shades repair, [there!" The bright-ey'd perch, with fins of Tyrian dye, My native shades! — there weep and murmur The silver eel, in shining volumes rollid,

She said, and melting as in tears she lay, The yellow carp, with scales bedropp'd with gold,

In a soft silver stream dissolv'd away. Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains,

The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps, And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains.

For ever murmurs and for ever weeps; Now Cancer glows with Phæbus' fiery car: Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore, The youth rush eager to the Sylvan war,

And bathes the forest where she rang'd before. Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround, In her chaste current oft the goddess laves, Rouse the fleet hart, and cheer the opening hound. And with celestial tears augments the waves. Th' impatient courser pants in every vein,

Oft in her glass the musing shepherd spies And, pawing, seems to beat the distant plain: The headlong mountains and the downward skies, Hills, vales, and floods, appear already cross'd, The watery landskip of the pendant woods, And, ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost. And absent trees that tremble in the floods; See the bold youth strain up the threat'ning steep,

In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, Rush through the thickets, down the vallies sweep,

And floating forests paint the waves with green; Hang o'er their coursers' heads with eager speed,

Through the fair scene roll slow the lingering And earth rolls back beneath the flying steed.

streams,

[Thames. Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain,

Then foaming pour along, and rush unto the Th’immortal huntress, and her virgin train; Thou too, great father of the British floods! Nor envy, Windsor! since thy shades have seen With joyful pride survey'st our lofty woods ; As bright a goddess, and as chaste a queen ; Where towering oaks their growing honours rear, Whose care, like her's, protects the Sylvan reign, And future navies on thy shores appear. The earth's fair light, and empress of the main. Not Neptune's self from all her streams receives Here too, 'tis sung, of old Diana stray'd,

A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives. And Cynthus' top forsook for Windsor shade; No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear, Here was she seen o'er airy wastes to rove,

No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear. Seek the clear spring, or haunt the pathless grove; Nor Po so swells the fabling poet's lays, Here arm’d with silver bows, in early dawn, While led along the skies his current strays, Her buskin’d virgins trac'd the dewy lawn.

As thine, which visits Windsor's fam'd abodes, Above the rest a rural nymph was fam’d, To grace the mansion of our earthly gods: Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona nam’d Nor all his stars above a lustre show, (Lodona's fate in long oblivion cast,

Like the bright beauties on thy banks below; The Muse shall sing, and what she sings shall last). Where Jove, subdu'd by mortal passion still, Scarce could the goddess from her nymphs be Might change Olympus for a nobler hill. known,

Happy the man whom this bright court approves, But by the crescent and the golden zone.

His sovereign favours, and his country loves : She scorn'd the praise of beauty, and the care ; Happy next him, who to these shades retires, A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair;

Whom nature charms, and whom the Muse inspires; A painted quiver on her shoulder sounds,

Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please,